But I must do my duty. Begging your pardon, Mr. Crocker," he
added, with a bow to me.
"Certainly, McCann," I said.
For a space there was only the bumping and straining of the yacht and the
swish of the water against her sides. Then the chief spoke again.
"It will be saving you both trouble and inconvenience, Mr. Crocker, if
you give him up, sir."
What did the man mean? Why in the name of the law didn't he make a move?
I was conscious that my client was fumbling in his clothes for the
wallet; that he had muttered an invitation for the chief to go inside.
McCann smoked uneasily.
"I don't want to search the boat, sir."
At these words we all turned with one accord towards the cabin. I felt
Farrar gripping my arm tightly from behind.
The Celebrity had disappeared!
It was Mr. Cooke who spoke.
"Search the boat!" he said, something between a laugh and a cry.
"Yes, sir," the chief repeated firmly. "It's sorry I am to do it, with
Mr. Crocker here, too."
I have always maintained that nature had endowed my client with rare
gifts; and the ease with which he now assumed a part thus unexpectedly
thrust upon him, as well as the assurance with which he carried it out,
goes far to prove it.
"If there's anything in your line aboard, chief," he said blandly, "help
yourself!"
Some of us laughed. I thought things a little too close to be funny.
Since the Celebrity had lost his nerve and betaken himself to the place
of concealment Mr.
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